


Spiraled in Crimson

by awintersrose



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM Scene, Bratting has consequences, Breathplay, KakuHida-RBB 2018, Kinbaku, Knifeplay, M/M, allusions to religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:18:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awintersrose/pseuds/awintersrose
Summary: For a moment, Kakuzu cannot help but step back and admire his own work. This priceless, rare jewel of a boy, all shades of innocent white and pink when he is anything but pure, sits bound and suspended at peak arousal like some fertility god of old, ready to be sacrificed, and Kakuzu is the one who holds the blade.





	Spiraled in Crimson

**Author's Note:**

> For the KakuHida Reverse Big Bang event on Tumblr, paired with original art by [@cityalien](https://cityalien.tumblr.com/post/177180917925/spiraled-in-crimson-awintersrose-naruto). Theme: Blood and Rope
> 
> Many thanks to Krikee and shipcat for their support as usual <3

The light is perfect in the open air of his playspace, streaming in through the high windows to glint in dim lines along the polished wooden floor, faintly illuminating a sight that Kakuzu wishes to capture and preserve. The loft itself is as simple as it is sophisticated and _expensive;_ he has never been a man to skimp on quality when it comes to his possessions. Some call it plain, and perhaps that is true; but for a scattering of sparse leather furnishings, the space is rather barren, designed to highlight the reason for its existence – to be a place for those whose hearts are under his control to find their freedom in obedience, and their oblivion in the midst of pain.

Kakuzu’s boots make echoing sounds along the glossy floor as he circles Hidan’s kneeling form, his boy called long ago to present himself for punishment. They’ve been here before, too many times to count, and yet the line of Hidan’s spine is still much too proud, as if each vertebra were laced together by a thread of utter defiance.

Hidan has made the grievous error of testing Kakuzu in public, threatening to reveal the proof of their last encounter before others in hopes of enticing his lover to action, to lure him into a tryst that could never be. He flaunted both himself and the rope beneath his clothes, the marks of possession along his skin. The brat is too often inclined to such things, and a part of Kakuzu is certain Hidan did it entirely for the purpose of garnering a punishment that he will enjoy as much as his master does.

It was rope he wanted, so it is rope he gets. Wine-red jute adorns his form in elegant woven lines, arms drawn back, knees spaced wide, drawing the eye straight to the very part of him that belies the rebellious spark in his eyes. His cock stands proud as he stares at his master, gagged and awaiting judgment, and as expected, there is nothing about his bearing that is penitent, not in the least.

Those eyes, the color of a pale ruby, burn with pure insolence, and Kakuzu knows that if he were free to speak, the string of curses leaving his boy’s lips would be unparalleled. He is half tempted to allow Hidan the freedom to speak, if only to dig his own grave that much deeper.

Nevertheless, his boy has given challenge, and it is time for Kakuzu to turn the tables completely in his own favor, asserting his own power.

“You only have your own impulsiveness to blame for the position you find yourself in. You do know that, don’t you boy?” Kakuzu says evenly, coming to a stop in front of Hidan’s kneeling form, and running a brown lacquered fingernail along his jawline.

Hidan flinches but remains silent, the tendon in his jaw pulsing, even as his chest rises and falls with the increased speed of his breath. Yet his erection has yet to waver, and it gives testament to just how much his boy craves that which he claims to hate.

Kakuzu lets fly a firm, open handed slap, its sound echoing sharply along the walls, filling the silence. A tendril of satisfaction begins to unfurl within his chest at Hidan’s reddened cheek and dazed expression, but only for a moment. All too soon, Hidan shifts back into his position and scowls hard around the gag, making a scoffing noise, which earns another blow, just enough to make him more biddable, to alter his headspace enough for the next stage in his punishment.

“There is a time and a place for the favors I bestow upon you, brat. What you chose to do today was disgraceful, and wholly displeasing to me.” Kakuzu bends so that Hidan can feel his breath along his ear, his skin. “And as your good book says, a man reaps what he sows.”

Hidan tenses before him, eyelids fluttering once at the mention of scripture, and he lowers his gaze for a moment.

“Repentance leads to forgiveness, and therefore I will offer you a chance to atone for your sins against me. If you please me today, you may earn your absolution.”

Kakuzu straightens and crosses the room to peruse an array of implements he’s prepared. His gaze falls upon a length of cord in the same hue as the ropes binding Hidan, and he picks it up, immediately inspired.

“Now, brat, before I truly begin, it would not do to see you receive pleasure you do not deserve, so let’s attend to that, shall we?”

Kakuzu takes his erection in hand, stroking him once, then twice, his gaze fixed on each twitch of muscle and shift of bone as his boy tries not to react, failing miserably. Hidan’s eyes burn into his own, not a whit less recalcitrant, but those ruby-red depths are darkened now, pupils blown wide, and their color hazed over with a tinge of open need. His ragged breathing is especially sweet to Kakuzu’s ears; there is no concealing the full effect his master’s touch has upon him.

Deft hands loop the thin, blood red rope around the base of his cock, weaving it around each of his testicles. For a moment, Kakuzu cannot help but step back and admire his own work. This priceless, rare jewel of a boy, all shades of innocent white and pink when he is anything but pure, sits bound and suspended at peak arousal like some fertility god of old, ready to be sacrificed, and Kakuzu is the one who holds the blade.

He stands and observes the fruit of his handiwork once more, but something is still not quite right.  
  
“You didn’t think you were getting away with this so easily, did you? You’ll learn that I always mean what I say, and when you disregard such things, there will be hell to pay before anything pleasurable happens again.” Kakuzu picks up a utility knife from the table nearby, and runs the flat of it along the line of his cock.

Hidan groans, visibly gritting his teeth upon the knotted rope as the cool, biting metal grazes such hot, unyielding flesh. One slip, and the knife will bloody him, but Kakuzu’s hands are steady and in full control of what happens here. There will be blood, but he will decide when and how it is spilled. He draws the knife away, and unwilling to show his relief Hidan growls instead. His expression drawn into a sneer as he rolls his shoulders, unable to keep from protesting despite how much he wants this - all the pain he can weather, and all the coppery-sweet blood.

With that movement, everything in the high ceilinged room goes silent.

“Your disrespect truly knows no end, boy.” Kakuzu yanks Hidan roughly to his feet, with little regard for how well he finds his footing. “Against the wall.”

Begrudgingly, his boy moves, sluggish at first, but still holding an odd bit of grace. Hidan stands against the dark brick wall with his eyes riveted to Kakuzu’s every move. Watching, waiting for his master to strike because strike he will. But Kakuzu meets his questing eyes, reaching for a tool somewhere in the periphery.

The dragon’s tail whip falls in bright, scorching slashes across Hidan’s chest before he even has a chance to realize what is happening, and he begins to curl in on himself. Two lightning-quick strikes along his thighs change the focus of his pain, tantalizingly close to his cock, and Hidan groans against the gag, arching back against the wall.

Kakuzu smirks, raining another series of precise blows along chest, shoulders, and thighs, allowing the next to graze Hidan’s swollen member, satisfied when his boy gives a muffled wail, eyes rolling back beneath fluttering lashes. Another run with the whip, and he steps forward to adjust the ropes and secure Hidan’s wrists using hard points set in the wall for this purpose. It would not do to see him fall; not when Kakuzu’s bonds might hold him. However, releasing the ropes in such a manner does free Hidan from the gag, and Kakuzu is curious to see how his boy chooses to use the momentary freedom.

He draws back and teases the whip along the raised weals that stripe Hidan’s pale skin in lurid scarlet lines. Hidan tenses, flinching as if the next strike is imminent, but nothing touches his skin until the very second he relaxes. The snap of the whip against his flesh echoes loudly and the string of expletives that follows is such that Kakuzu immediately wedges the rope gag back in place between his teeth and tightens it hard.

“I so mercifully gave you one freedom and you couldn’t even restrain your filthy tongue. You must truly need to be cleansed. The only question is will it be by fire, or blood?” Kakuzu says in a lilting voice, watching the fear and anticipation begin to escalate in Hidan’s eyes.

His boy truly hates fire.

One hand wavers over his fire kit, but the glimmer of the razor sharp utility knife is far too tempting and it feels perfectly balanced against his palm. The time spent honing his blades was not a waste, if it will make his boy sing his contrition. And when the blade kisses the flushed skin of his chest in swirling patterns, that song is truly marvelous.

Blood wells along the precise cuts, falling in crimson droplets, decorating Hidan’s pearly skin in bright, vivid beads that flow down the expanse of his chest, accenting the ropework like dangling teardrop garnets. The sadist in Kakuzu’s heart trills with glee at the sight, and he runs the tip of the knife through the rivulets of blood, spiraling patterns that turn him into something artful, valuable, and utterly beautiful.

Kakuzu sets aside the knife and steps in so close that Hidan feels the furnace of his master’s presence, larger than life and the full center of his world. The heat of his body still doesn't match the inferno lighting his eyes as Kakuzu wraps his hands around Hidan’s neck, choking him for long, dizzying seconds that threaten to steal consciousness itself. The pressure is relieved only long enough for Hidan to steal a single gasping breath, his head swimming as his master does as he pleases, holding his very life in his strong hands.

When Kakuzu finally releases him and draws back, Hidan’s blood decorates his master's forearms, and the sight of it makes Hidan cry out wordlessly, thrown into endless flight.

Quickly, Hidan’s cock rope is loosened and thrown aside, and the burn of orgasm accumulates anew through his stupor, his desire guided ever closer to something he cannot even begin to quantify. Then Kakuzu tears at the fly of his own pants, freeing himself and taking them both in one hand, thrusting his hardened length along his boy’s leaking, reddened erection. The rising pleasure spikes razor-sharp, and Hidan is rendered helpless to it, wantonly crying out with the onslaught. The affirmation that Kakuzu has been pleased enough to take his pleasure along with Hidan is an intoxication like no other.

The weight of the air itself changes in an instant as his boy cries out, eyes lost in full surrender. Kakuzu draws closer, his own breath hissing through his teeth as he eases them both through the last throes of orgasm. He immediately quells the urge to haul Hidan up into an ardent kiss. Not yet. Haphazard movements of his fingers release the ropes and he lifts the smaller man into his arms, as if he weighs no more than a feather. The soft bed in the corner is ready for this moment, this time where all pretense of protocols unravel and there is only Kakuzu and the man who holds _his_ heart.  
  
Hidan is half-conscious, nearly dead weight in his arms, but still clinging gently as Kakuzu maneuvers them both to a comfortable position on the bed. He pulls a deep red blanket up around Hidan and simply embraces him as the rush of submissive flight ebbs away over long minutes. In time, silvery lashes flutter and lift and Hidan peers up at him with sleepy contentment in his eyes.  
  
“So, do you forgive me, Master?” he asks softly, the edge of a cocky smirk playing along his lips.

Kakuzu’s green eyes give away nothing, peering at him as if assessing his worth all over again, and Hidan’s heart skips a beat.

“I suppose you’ve earned your absolution, my boy.” Kakuzu says, his expression still giving away nothing, but he finally smiles as he leans in to cup one of Hidan’s cheeks.

“Accept it with a holy kiss,” he whispers, his lips meeting Hidan’s almost reverently. “and be cleansed.”

Both know it is only a matter of time before Hidan sins again, and he wonders if the punishment will be rendered as sweetly as this one. Regardless of what happens, one thing is certain: Kakuzu would not trade this for the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading - I do hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please do let me know your thoughts via kudos or a comment if you can. I adore hearing from you all <3
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr: [awintersrose.tumblr.com](http://awintersrose.tumblr.com)


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